I'm having a hard time remembering names, even faces lately. A wee bit problematic in my line of work. I don't think I even realize how many names and faces and phone numbers and emails I encounter on a weekly basis between three towns for the paper and church. Then I have to match them all up. Whereas I have a slightly unusual name and represent 25% of the diversity around here...I don't blend in quite as well.
Also, when many of the people you meet are in a similar geographic...then you have a lot of similar hair styles, clothing choices, etc. What I'm really saying is...all middle-aged white people look alike. Haha. Just typing that made my eyes water. Am I going to get in trouble for that?
Let's move on to the sheep. My publisher overheard someone talking about their sheep farm and got their name (eaves dropping proves very beneficial for the newspaper biz). So, I looked up the sheep people and set up an appointment to go out there. I was so excited. If you know me personally, you know I really like sheep, Irish music and red heads (not in that order).
The farm has 12 ewes, 40 in the owners' younger days. Unfortunately, I didn't get to hug any, but they were cute and hilarious. Such dumb, fluffy animals. How could you not love them?
|They made quite a ruckus when their owner fed them.|
|I like when they stare at you.|
|The sheep stands alone, the sheep stands alone... Way to make the minority feel ostracized, guys.|
|Sheep are so classic in black & white.|
|What the bleeeet are you looking at? I really like sheep puns.|
|Blue eggs, like redheads, fascinate me. I love that the farmer-ess had a whole in her gloves. She was no nonsense.|
|Not to be left out, this beautiful aracauna rooster struck a pose. I really wanted to live on a farm after this visit...I'd just rather do the cooking and not all the growing...I'll help though, and hug the sheep.|